


This One Made A Pig Of Me

by OerbaIzalith



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Conflicting Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Drug Addiction, Ethan has healing hands, Jealousy, Lots of blue-balling, Lots of boners, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Power Struggle, Vic is a chronic masturbator, Vic is a leaker, Werewolf Kink, Werewolf Senses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OerbaIzalith/pseuds/OerbaIzalith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor craves love, Ethan knocks on his door. Obviously things are never that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Conscience Burning, My Beastly Roar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scorpionmother](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionmother/gifts).



> Written with oodles of love for scorpionmother, I know you asked for a drabble, but I know you love reading too, so have at it Mum.

The full moon was rising over the East End of London, thick storm clouds swirled around it lazily, the flicker of unborn lightning illuminated them, as if straining to be released from its vapory womb. Victor Frankenstein regarded the flickering with awe, staring up at them through the sunroof of his empty laboratory. 

Lightning was life. Lightning could spark down and reanimate the dead, return them from the murky waters of the beyond. It was a primordial force way beyond his understanding, and yet it wasn't something he needed blind faith to believe in. It was a natural, purely scientific phenomenon. The product of two clouds clashing. Making love, Victor thought. And lightning is the product of that love.

Love, making love. Two things in this life that Victor had never once experienced in all his years. To him, the concept was as foreign as the existence of gods and devils and everything between. If he couldn't touch it, it wasn't real. 

Unlike anything spiritual however, he could to some extent see love. He saw couples walking down the street, holding hands, a soft kiss to the lips, a passionate tangle of tongues, hands and arms extending to pull the other close. How he yearned to experience that. To feel wanted, and loved. That was why he had never stopped trying to create love, create a creature that would love him. Yet those attempts had failed horribly, and he couldn't bear to subject himself to such failure again.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp rapping from upstairs. Someone was at his door, and it sounded quite urgent. He made his way up the stairs, and closed the bookshelf over the passage leading down to the laboratory. His apartment was ridiculously small compared to the lab. A single bed, a table littered with paperwork and a Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare and little else.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of the last person he would ever have expected to grace his presence at such an hour. Ethan Chandler stood in the shadows of the apartment building hallway, labored breaths escaping him as he clutched his crossed arms with both hands.

"I need your help." There was an urgency to his voice, as if he was running out of time. "Please."

Victor stood aside to allow him entrance. "Do come in."

He didn't waste any time letting himself in, practically knocking Victor even further out of his way, his frame larger than Victor remembered.

"I need you to take me down to the lab."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid you must be mistaken, mister Chandler."

"Oh for god sake, Doctor." Ethan retorted, highly impatient. "I can hear your heartbeat, I know your lying. I can smell it on you. I can smell the chemicals on your clothes, I always could. I can smell it from behind that bookshelf there. You have a secret, and I don't give a shit, because I have one too. Now please! Help me. Time is short."

Victor didn't speak, eyes large and lips parted slightly at how Ethan so easily sussed him out. How could he hear his heartbeat from where he stood? How could he smell the chemicals even after Victor took care of sanitizing each time after handling them? Instead, he moved to the bookshelf and pushed it away from the wall, and entered into the passage, beckoning Ethan with a glance to follow.

When they had descended to the open space of the lab, Victor noticed Ethan didn't follow him into the moonlit area, stopping at the foot of the metal staircase.

"I need you to tie me down. That chair over there..." Ethan motioned to a lone wooden chair sat next to the large tub of water, "and the chains in that cabinet." He looked to the metal cabinet that stood against the wall.

"How are you so certain of what the cabinet might contain?" Victor quizzed, the situation becoming increasingly strange to him, like some dream he would wake up from at any given time.

"I can smell everything, doctor. I can even smell the doubt radiating from you, but you can be sure that if you don't trust me on this and work with me here, things will not end well for you."

Victor frowned in disbelief. "I beg your pardon, mister Chandler, but are you attempting to threaten me?"

"No. Look, please just get the chains and bring the chair here. I can't be in the moonlight."

"Very well." Victor grabbed the chair with one hand and brought it before Ethan. He turned back to the cabinette and went to get the chains as Ethan sat himself, hands gripping the armpieces so tightly his knuckles were white.

Victor returned with the chains, and held them before Ethan.

"Do you expect me to chain myself?" Ethan growled.

"Your mother must not have taught you the value of manners. Please and thank you, mister Chandler. Please and thank you." Victor groaned, slightly annoyed by Ethan's attitude as he started wrapping the chains around him in clockwise rings.

"My hands too. Use a padlock when you're done." Victor imagined Ethan's voice was growing deeper, somewhat inhuman. It piqued his interest and his fear. He was suddenly morbidly curious about what was happening to the man before him.

As Victor locked Ethan's arms into place on the armrests with the last remaining bits of chain and clasped the lock into the last link, he noticed his hands. Broken fingernails fell to the floor beneath the chair as long, sharp claws grew from Ethan's fingertips. As he looked up, he saw the greenish yellow glow of his irises and then the drooling fanged maw as Ethan snarled and his head snapped forward in an attempt to bite him.

Victor fell back and scrambled away, his adrenaline starting to pump at the sight of the creature Ethan had become. Victor brought himself up against the tub, breath coming in short gasps as he watched the beast thrash and snarl in the chair, straining against the chains. 

He observed for hours, fascinated, in awe and terrified. He didn't know what to make of what he was seeing, except that it was just another way his eyes were opening to this unknown world he had so unwillingly come to know through his experiences alongside Sir Malcolm's inner circle. Even more, he now shared a secret with the rugged american gunslinger, and suddenly, his world seemed a bit brighter. 

\---

When morning came, it was drizzling, rain drops pattering down on the sunroof, creating shadowy circles all about the laboratory.

Victor remain sat in the exact same spot he cowered into when he first witnessed Ethan's beastly form, which had now vanished as if it never manifested. In the chair sat the same man that came knocking at his door, who forced the good doctor to chain him down before baring his secret for Victor to see. And what a beautiful secret it was.

As Ethan opened his eyes, and noticed Victor, he sighed deeply, closing his eyes again. "You can unchain me now. It only happens on full moon nights."

Victor hoisted himself up on his palms, legs quivering.

"Do the others know?" He asked, standing still, allowing blood to circulate to his legs.

"Sembene knows. I'm still not sure if telling the others is a good idea. Not until I'm sure myself.

"What manner of malady ails you so? I have never heard or seen anything of its like."

Ethan scoffed. "Malady? You're joking, right? This isn't a malady, it's a curse."

"I do not believe in curses, mister Chandler. That requires I believe in magic, and in turn requires I believe in everything else."

"Well, doc, I'm really shocked at how you still insist on living in your little tunnel even when you've been hit by dozens of trains already."

Victor had no answer to this, but his stubborn nature and refusal to believe in anything but scientific fact kept him from acknowledging the truth. He had seen the impossible, time and time again, and he knew there was so much more to come. Like what he had seen the previous night. Yet he could not allow himself to fall into gullibility.

"I do not live in a tunnel, I merely go by the perfectly reasonable rule of believing in what I see."

"And what did you see, doc?"

Victor paused, unsure if Ethan himself knew what happens during his transformation. "You are aware of... your..."

"Yes, I am aware. You haven't been the first person to chain me to a chair."

"Well, then... You turned into a beast. Wolf-like I should say. Feral, and quite inappreciative of your confines. It was also... quite a sight to behold. Unlike anything I have ever witnessed. Grotesquely beautiful in its way."

Ethan raised his brows at Victor, eyes wide with disbelief. "You are a very strange guy, hope you know that, doc."

Victor found himself staring at the man in the chair. Something stirred in him. He was intrigued by this man before him that wasn't entirely human. He was something more, something not mundane. He never saw Ethan as more than a brute from America, the man who shoots at things because he doesn't understand them. How wrong he was.

"Strangeness is relevant. I enjoy new experiences. However terrifying or unknown."

"Good to know, now could you please release me?"

While Victor was unchaining him, he found his hand lingering on Ethan's shoulder, skirting over the vest that was hanging loosely over rough skin, torn from Ethan's growth spurt the previous night. He skirted his hand beneath it and felt the skin between his fingers. He wanted to feel, to see if there were any abnormalities, any protrusions that might indicate the source of his moonlit growth.

"Doc..? What are you doing?" Ethan asked as delicate and skilled fingers explored his shoulder, and then they were gone.

"Nothing, nothing at all. My, uh, curiosity just had the better of me for the moment." He was unused to physical contact with anything, much less this marvel seated before him, and it made his stomach turn with anxiety and some other feeling, unknown to him.

"Curious about?"

Victor considered for a moment on how to respond. "What it entails? The smell? The hearing? Are you yourself during the episode?"

"It depends, the fuller the moon is the more acute everything is, sight, smell, hearing. As for the 'episode', you mean like last night? No, I black out when it happens, and that's a good thing, because you've seen what I am capable of."

"That is astonishing!" Victor marvelled. "On days like this one, how strong are your senses?"

Ethan felt the doctor continue to unwrap the chains, suddenly aware of his every move. He listened to his heartbeat. It was much faster than its usual calm pace. It was the sound of excitement, and perhaps something else, he wasn't sure.

"I can hear your heart beating a thousand miles per hour, for a start." he said coolly, and Victor found himself blushing profusely. "Yet I sense it's not fear. No." Ethan inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the scent behind him. "Oh..." he said suddenly, surprised. "Doc, I'm flattered."

Victor suddenly became aware of something straining the inside of his pants, which he realized a split second later, was his erection. He had been so caught up in the whirlpool of questions and Ethan's words, that he failed to feel his penis growing hard in its confines. Not only that, but there was a wet spot right at the tip where it pressed against the fabric.

Ethan gave a small breathless laugh, as Victor let go of the chains again, unsure of what to do or what to say. Another deep breath was inhaled through nostrils, and then a whisper.

"You can touch me again if you want to, Doc. I won't bite."

A moment of silence between them, Victor steadying his breathing, forcing himself to calm down. Then he managed a small joke under his breath.

"I find that hard to believe after last night." He returned to the chains, removing one last circle around Ethan's chest, and they dropped loosely into his lap. As this happened Ethan seized Victor's hand in his, holding him tight.

Victor was on the verge of protesting, telling Ethan to let him go, but couldn't utter a word as Ethan placed his hand back on his shoulder.

"I won't bite." He uttered softly, moving Victor's hand over the exposed flesh. It felt good, having such inquisitive hands exploring him. Like a virgin, Victor had an exquisite appeal to Ethan. He hadn't noticed it before, always having thought the doctor an arrogant little man with an attitude. Now he saw something else entirely. 

He saw a hint of a smile, the blush in his cheeks. Heard the ever quickening pace of his heart, his breath hitching. Smelt the precum that was steadily staining the fabric of his trousers, the enticing stink of lust in his pheromones. Sensed the vulnerability of having absolutely no knowledge of intimate human contact. It aroused Ethan to think that he could seem so desirable to someone who is otherwise cold and clinical about everything. It felt like he was attaining something that nobody else could, finding a previously uncharted, secret, forbidden place.

"I like the way you touch me." Ethan's voice was heavy and thick. Victor pulled his hand back as if scalded by boiling water. He looked away from Ethan, walked toward the stairs, pacing back and forth at the foot, a mixture of feelings overwhelming him in a way he had never been overwhelmed before, and it scared him beyond reason. He wanted to scream. Scream with joy, with desire, with fear, with frustration.

Then Ethan's hand was on his shoulder, holding him still, turning Victor to look at him. Victor wouldn't raise his eyes, he refused to let this gorgeous creature see the power he held to render him completely vulnerable to his ministrations.

"Please... I think it best that you take your leave now." Victor muttered. "I am feeling things I should not be feeling, and I am putting myself to shame."

A calloused finger beneath his chin, lifting his face to meet hungry eyes. No creature on earth has ever looked at him like that before, with such a ferocious passion, it nearly pained him to look at it. He ached all over, wanted to give in and give up and just let himself be wanted, be desired. And then he did.

A coarse hand cupped his cheek, the sensation of another touching his face in such a gentle gesture made him sigh an embarassing sound he immediately wished he could take back. Ethan's breath hot on his face, just like his hand, made him pull back just a little.

"I... I've never done this before. Kissed another."

Ethan smiled, a big toothy grin, his dimples beautifully lining the sides of his mouth.

"And this is a problem?"

Victor parted his lips, swallowing hard to rid his mouth of the excess saliva that had been building since Ethan laid his hand on him.

"You might think it unpleasant. Think me clumsy in my ineptitude."

"Think of it like a dance. Let me steer you, until you feel the rhythm move you."

Victor smiled then. And it was something Ethan had never seen before. He realized just how beautiful the doctor was, especially when he smiled. Ethan's lust was suddenly taking a step back to accomodate another feeling. He genuinely admired Victor. He might still be the arrogant man who has limited views, but he was an adorable, beautiful and desirable arrogant man with limited views.

As he leaned in, Victor closed his eyes, his lips parting for Ethan's. Then Ethan took those lips between his own, moving Victor's top lip between his in a gentle suckle. He kept at it for a few seconds before drawing back, breaking the kiss, a thin strand of saliva briefly connecting them before it broke and Ethan swept his tongue over his bottom lip to take it into his mouth.

Victor's eyes were still closed, small tremors through his body made it seem as if he was shivering. He reached out his hands to clutch at Ethan's torn vest, instead finding purchase on his defined pecs, feeling the thin stubble of chest hair prickling his fingers.

Then Ethan's mouth was on his again, an arm around his neck. Lips moving wetly as their kiss deepened, his mouth opening wider purely by instinct and kissing back, catching on to Ethan's movements and enveloping his lips with his own. His hands roamed, touching and feeling the skin, pressing gently with his fingers to feel muscle and bone.

He felt like he could soar with the delight of being taken into the arms of another, feeling a warm, living body against his. A body that was touching him, a hand moving beneath his suspenders and pulling at his shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked into his trousers, then moving across his flat, hard stomach and up to his hairy chest, palming at the soft skin.

Victor moaned into his mouth, feeling his erection ache and twitch at the onslaught, steadily dripping and causing the wetness to soak through to the front of his trousers.

The smell of it intoxicated Ethan, who began ravaging Victor as if he was a single juicy fruit in the midst of an endless desert. Their kiss was fire that threatened to consume them both, and he pulled away briefly, looking to see if the doctor was at all having reservations, for he did not intend to stop.

"Mister Chandler..." Came the breathless voice as Victor opened his eyes. "That was...incredible." 

"That good, huh?" Ethan grinned, pinching a hard nipple between his fingers, and Victor practically yelped at the sensation.

"You feeling the rhythm yet?"

"The rhythm of the mummers' dance." Victor sighed.

Ethan frowned with a smile on his face, not understanding the meaning. Instead he leaned in to Victor's ear, swept his tongue over the small lobe before taking it between his lips softly.

Victor's eyes practically rolled back in their sockets as his hands moved up to grip the firm shoulders, softly scowling at how much it aroused him. 

"You want to know about my acute senses? You want to know how good my sense of taste is?" Ethan's voice whispered in his ear.

"Hmmmm?" Victor purred as Ethan's hand moved down again, trailing the hairs of his stomach, and slipping beneath his trousers. Two fingers swept over the head of his wet erection.

Victor jumped at the contact but not far enough for Ethan to stop. It was another new sensation he had never been accustomed to, beside his own hand touching himself.

Ethan chuckled in the back of his throat, removing his slick fingers from Victor's trousers, and placing them on his tongue, closing his mouth around them, suckling at them. It was the most sinful display Victor had ever been made to witness, and he couldn't have been more in want of Ethan. Ethan removed his fingers with an obscene dirty sound following them, as he moved his lips to Victor's ear again.

"You taste... So. Fucking. Good."

Victor found himself blushing again, feeling the simultaneous need to cover his face and to grab Ethan's face and bury his tongue in his mouth. He decided on the latter, which Ethan gladly received, and soon, their tongues were tangling and twisting against each other inside their mouths, each man gasping for breath moments later.

You think, maybe..." Ethan whispered.

"Maybe?" Victor breathed.

"Can I take you upstairs?"

Victor took a moment to realize what Ethan meant. The bed. "What... I mean... Will there be any, uh..." He giggled softly at himself for being so tongue-tied.

"Intercourse?" Ethan helped him finish his question, and Victor could do nothing but nod, nervously smiling.

"That is the intention, doc. Unless, of course, you don't want to."

Victor closed his eyes, thinking for a moment, weighing his desires and his reason. What would happen? Would he have to let Ethan inside him? Would Ethan let him inside? What if he climaxed too soon? What if he couldn't climax at all? What if Ethan hates it and never returns? What if he hates it and loses his final hope that there's more to life than science and cadavers? How would this change things for them? How could they still be colleagues if things go awry? And finally, the worst question of all, that cut through his mind like a nasty rusted blade. How could anyone want to be with an arrogant, unkind, narrow-minded Opium addict like him?

For all his contemplation, Victor opened his eyes, and then to Ethan's dismay, slowly backed away, eyes sad and apologetic. He couldn't. As awe-inspiring and breathtaking as their exchange was, it wouldn't be wise to continue further down the path. For both their sakes. It was just a dream, a hopeless little fantasy. He wasn't meant to be loved, wasn't good at anything but his chemicals and experiments and his cadavers.

Ethan watched, confused and still hard, as Victor ascended the stairs, and once he had reached the top, looked down at him.

"I'll show you out, mister Chandler. I have a shirt you may wear. I'm sure you have business to attend to with Sir Malcolm." and with that, he disappeared from sight, leaving Ethan with no choice but to follow.


	2. Now This One Sits Here And Whispers Things To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their encounter, Victor finds himself (and his body) unable to forget about Ethan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand. Enjoy :)

A full week had passed since Victor had tasted Ethan's tongue in his mouth, felt his hands trailing over his skin, fingertips touching his erect member and sucking on the precum that had gathered on Victor's swollen head. Not a day had passed since then without Victor masturbating several times a day to the memory of the rugged American pressed up against him, lips hungry against his, rough hands touching him in a way he had never been touched before.

Those five erotic minutes haunted his dreams and his waking hours, hindering his work in the laboratory and oddly calming his Opium cravings. And despite having pulled away from Ethan, Victor craved to feel his touch again, his body hard and steady against his, his breath in his mouth and lips at his ear. That whisper of seductive prospect...

"Doctor? Your uhm..."

Vanessa was sitting next to him in the horse-drawn carriage, eyebrows raised and eyes locked to his clothed crotch. He followed her gaze and felt his blood rush to his ears and cheeks, coloring them a warm, mortified red.

"Oh god. I am so, so very sorry, miss Ives!" He stuttered and crossed his legs in order to hide the prominent bulge in his pants. "My humblest apology."

"Not to worry, Doctor." She tried sounding as collected as possible, but he could clearly hear the amusement in her voice. "I'm rather elated that you have found someone that holds your thoughts so entirely and... uhm... firmly. She must be an extraordinary woman."

He had to stop himself from correcting her. He silently wondered if she knew about his encounter with Ethan and was perhaps calling him out, attempting to draw a confession from him. It was none of her business. It was nobody's business. So instead he just gave her a stupid little grin and crossed his legs tighter, wincing at the constricting pain on his erection as he hid it from sight.

They were on their way to another meeting at Sir Malcolm's, the first time Victor's presence was required since that night. He was at once jubilant and terrified of seeing Ethan again, silently wishing he was absent so there wouldn't have to be an awkward atmosphere, but also knowing he would be incredibly unsatisfied and disappointed if he wasn't there.

His own inner conflict frustrated him beyond comprehension and if Vanessa wasn't sitting in the carriage beside him, he would most probably have banged his head repeatedly into the side window until it shattered.

"Did uh... Did Sir Malcolm perhaps mention the service he requires of me?" He made small talk, ears still burning hot from embarassment.

"I believe he wishes to discuss a serious matter with us all. He specifically requested your medical expertise be present." Her smile had faded, but Victor imagined he detected a hint of slyness in the way her lips were pursed together.

"I see. Well, I can hardly deny the compensation for my services. I shall take on any duty with a stout heart." He tried regaining his composure in the face of his shame that was still throbbing between his legs.

\---

When they arrived at Grandage Place minutes later, the lamp posts driving the night back from where they set foot, Victor and Vanessa made their way to the Mansion, stopping at the door which was open a crack. She glanced at him, worry in her eyes, and he motioned for her to wait outside while he entered to take a look.

The inside of the mansion was illuminated by the numerous individual lamps lining the walls, but there was no soul in sight.

"Hello?" He called out, but no answer came. "Sir Malcolm?" He moved from the door and to the dining room to the right, opening the doors to a deafening sound. The sound of five people cheering.

"Happy birthday!"

Sir Malcolm, Sembene, Mister Lyle, Vanessa... And Ethan... All shouting and clapping their congratulations, Vanessa wrapping an arm around him from where she followed him inside, giving him a shouldered hug and joining the others where they stood smiling and laughing, all for him.

He wanted to sink into the earth and explode with joy all at the same time. His mind - and hands - had been so pre-occupied by thoughts of Ethan that he had completely neglected to remember that it was his birthday.

Sir Malcolm, who he had never seen smiling before then, came to him first, shaking his hand in both of his, Sembene right behind him repeating the action and managing a small turn of the lips. Mister Lyle was next, not raising his hand but throwing his small portly figure around Victor, giving him a lengthy, rather inappropriate hug. Victor glanced up, eyes big with discomfort and met Ethan's slightly jealous but warm stare.

"Happy birthday," Ethan said when Lyle finally let go of Victor, handing him a small square box. "from all of us."

Victor had never received a birthday present before, and gleefully proceeded to open the box. Inside he found a book of sonnets, written by Shakespeare.

"I noticed you were a fan." Ethan's eyes never left his, his intense gaze stirring welcome memories in Victor, which went to an unwelcome place on his anatomy.

"Pardon me, I need to visit the lavatory." He quickly excused himself, leaving the book and bewildered stares in his wake.

\---

After what felt like minutes, Victor had finally managed to get his "god damned erection" to go down, thinking aloud at "such an embarassment my own body is to me, that damned man looking at me in such way", mockingly considering to just "castrate myself and get it over with."

"Now what fun would that be?" Came the thick husky voice behind him. Ethan stood in the lavatory door with his arms crossed, sizing Victor up, taking in the sight of the desirable Doctor.

"A gentleman should rather have the courtesy of knocking before entering a closed room." Victor barked unconvincingly, his voice betraying his lack of resolve.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing that I'm not a gentleman." Ethan stepped away from the door then, moving closer to Victor.

"Shouldn't have chased me away like a dog that shat the rug, doc. It hurt my pride."

"Your pride is the least of my concern, mister Chandler." Once again he failed to sound convincing, as Ethan was now so close he could smell his cologne. It was an earthy, masculine scent that his nose had never before had the privilege of experiencing.

"You like the way I smell? I can hear you inhaling through your nose and your hormones going wild. You wanna know how I feel?" Victor started backing away as Ethan came ever closer. "I can smell your pheromones. It drives me up these fucking walls like you won't believe. And the scent of your virgin... Now that is something truly special."

Victor continued backing away until the heels of his shoes hit the wall behind him. He was trapped in a corner, and Ethan was standing in the way of his escape. Not that he really wanted to escape, he just felt like he should. To preserve what little dignity he had left.

"Please, mister Chandler, might I pass?"

Ethan snickered softly, placing his hands on the wall either side of Victor, touching his nose to Victor's cheek and inhaling his scent.

"No."

Victor swallowed loudly, his breathing steadily becoming more rapid at the man who was practically on top of him. His penis responded once more as it always had, without permission, without concern for the circumstance and without any intention of going back down any time soon.

"Quite the happy camper you have down there. At least one of you appreciates me."

Victor's eyes closed on their own as Ethan pressed a firm, wet kiss to his cheek. Then there was that familiar whisper to his ear.

"When you jerk that cock of yours thinking about me, and I know you do, what do you imagine me doing to you, doc?"

"Uhhh..." Was the only reply the doctor could manage.

"Hmm, let's see..." Ethan inhaled a whiff of fresh perspiration forming on Victor's skin. "You're wondering how large my cock is? Wondering if it could fit into your mouth all the way to the base? And if it could fit down there?" Ethan's left hand moved from the wall and was gently but surely placed on Victor's behind, fingers pressing through the fabric into the crevice between his cheeks, caressing that forbidden place. Victor jumped at the sensation and clenched his legs shut, Ethan removing his hand and bringing his fingers to his nose.

"Smells so pure. Untouched. Not even a finger in there yet. Or a tongue."

Victor grit his teeth together behind his closed lips, head turning away from Ethan, unwilling to have him see the unfathomable animal desire in his eyes. Ethan took the opportunity to bring his lips closer to Victor's ear, licking a small wet trail along the outer rim and continued his whispering taunt.

"That's right, I'd have my tongue in there, tasting you, tasting inside of you, sucking at that tender flesh until it was soft and ready to receive my cock."

Victor felt his pants become wet once more, just as it had the last time Ethan was embracing him and sucking his mouth into his own.

"Now you're thinking about how I would feel inside of you. Wondering if it would hurt. If it would bring you pleasure beyond anything you could ever have imagined. If I could take you to a place where pleasure and pain are one in the same thing."

Ethan's hand moved to Victor's mouth, closing over it gently, labored breaths exhaling through his nose onto Ethan's hand.

"How I might fuck you so hard and relentlessly that you wouldn't be able to breathe, how you might want to beg me to stop but also want me to never ever stop."

His hand was removed and Victor took a deep shaky breath, but then Ethan was pushing up against him, his feet leaving the ground as he was lifted up against the wall by strong arms.

"How I might fuck you up against a wall, make you scream in ecstasy as I suspend you and use your body for my pleasure, working you up and down over and over again?"

Victor didn't resist, just let Ethan hold him there, helplessly caught between the hard wall and the harder man. Ethan's whispers were harsh, his excitement exuded by his every word.

"And when I'm done fucking you all night long, will you still feel me, feel the ache of your freshly plucked flower reminding you that you are mine? Will you feel the hefty deposit I'd leave inside your body for days after, begging to be released?"

Victor caved then with a breathy, softly uttered "yes..."

And with that, he was released, nearly falling down as his feet hit the ground. As he gathered himself, he saw Ethan turning to leave, turning back before closing the door behind him and grinning triumphantly.

"Now you know how it feels, doc."

And with that, Ethan left Victor all alone, disoriented and unsatisfied. Despite that or perhaps because of it, Victor quickly made for the door and locked it from the inside. He couldn't go out there in his state, he thought as he dropped his pants and proceeded to pleasure himself, hand working furiously over slick meat.

Not until he had relieved himself of Ethan's sinful words, still echoing in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew got myself hot writing this. Stick around, I'm not done yet.


	3. This Wall is Primal, My Grinding Jaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor wakes up from a wet dream and finds himself up against the real thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, scorpionmother!

His touch tickles Victor's skin. His breath is cool and hot in his neck. Teeth scrape along his jaw line and fingers probe his nipples, thumbs pressing against the nubs. He smells of the earth, of woodland morning dew. His fingers in Victor's mouth tastes like salt and gunpowder. His mouth moves down, tongue licking a wet stripe across the line on his stomach, swiping across the indent where his belly button rests, down over the thin hairs that grow between his lower belly and his groin. Rough hands grip his waist, holding him in place as he is enveloped by a searing mouth which moves wetly, deliciously over his cock. It suckles him, teases him, sends warmth surging up through his stomach. Every bob of his head massages his member. A hand reaches behind him, one wet finger slips into the tight virginal skin. Victor sighs at the intrusion accompanied by the relentless mouth on his meat. He reaches down to pull those talented lips from him, to lean down and kiss them. He kisses the hairy face, his tongue licking over the fangs and he moans when he feels the claw of the finger inside of him scraping against his prostate. A vicious and inhuman snarl sounds from the wolf creature that now pushes him down and attempts to mount him, the finger being replaced by something much larger that pushes hard against his previously untouched hole. As soon as it breaches the resistant rim, Victor screams and climaxes.

...

...

Victor snapped awake, covered in a sheen of sweat and short of breath, his naked chest painted with the evidence of his erotic dream. He sighed, frustrated at how frequent these dreams came to him, waking him in the middle of the night with his own ejaculate coating his stomach, chest, sometimes his face. No matter how often he relieved himself, usually four or five times a day, the dreams came nonetheless. 

Ethan's words, the memory of his touch and the taste of his mouth had become Victor's obsession. Merely sparing a thought toward what had passed between them -and what could have- was enough to send Victor running for the nearest, most convenient place where he could be alone. He had always possessed a healthy sexual drive, albeit he had never engaged in actual sex with anyone but himself. Yet now his hormones were in such over-drive that he felt like he was experiencing pubescence for the very first time.

He sat up, the springs of his single bed audibly straining under the pressure as he moved to get off and grab the nearest white shirt that he hadn't had time to wash yet. He took a quick whiff, it reeked of his semen from the previous day's sessions, yet as all other scents belonging to him and his bodily fluids, he wasn't as repulsed by it as anyone else would have been. He wondered for a moment if Ethan would enjoy the smell, as he wiped the sticky strings from his skin, tossing the shirt aside and moving to pour a glass of water from the metallic jug on the end table.

As he took a sip of water, wishing it was cooler in the humid air of the summer night, he thought of Ethan once more. During their time spent together at Sir Malcolm's home, he gave Ethan a wide berth, sparing only glances of desire and lust when he knew nobody was looking. Ethan knew, though.

Often, while Sir Malcolm was engaging Victor in conversation, Ethan wasn't far away, leering hungrily at the good doctor, running his hand over his own crotch and tracing the outline of his stiffness pressing against the material covering it. He would then run his tongue over his bottom lip and then replace his tongue with teeth, biting down gently as he continues palming his hardness in full view of Victor, who would usually become so distracted by the sight that sir Malcolm has grown worried that he is suffering from an attention deficit disorder.

"Curse you, Chandler." Victor breathed, as he remembered the day before. He, Ethan and Vanessa had attended a social gathering at Dorian Gray's home, where Dorian spared little time before approaching Victor, who had been staring in wonder at the works of art displayed in his home. Dorian fed him a few ghoulish lines in an attempt to make an impression, and Victor could do little but look to the opposite direction of the handsome gentleman with an undeniably ghastly air about him. 

Ethan had stood in the corner of the room, cognac in hand, knuckles white as his grip had threatened to shatter the delicate glass in his hand. His eyes had been on Victor and Dorian, his expression that of menace and malice and everything between, especially jealousy. When his eyes had met with Victor's, the message in them had been clear. 'I will rip his hands off before I let him touch you.'

Victor had sensed an opportunity to show Ethan that he could do whatever he pleased, and allowed Dorian to guide him deeper into his home, showing off his collection of portraits, all the while speaking in that ridiculously self-indulgent manner that Victor had found tiresome at best. Then as they reached the bed chamber, Ethan had appeared as if from the shadows, punching Dorian hard, causing his posture to crumble as the two men engaged in seemingly random fisticuffs, though Victor had known that it was simply testosterone and typical alpha male behavior at work.

Victor had merely shaken his head disinterestedly, took the opportunity to remove himself from the room, finding Vanessa and escorting her home. 

He hasn't seen Ethan since. His dreams were constantly plagued by him, as they had been for weeks, and more recently by the beast he would become on moonlit nights. Victor wondered if that was perhaps the only reason for his attraction to Ethan, the fact that he wasn't mundane, that he had a monster inside, just as Victor had, though his was less literal.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock so soft and uncertain that he might have missed it had he not been standing so close to the door. It was the dead of night, and Victor pondered for a moment if he should answer the door or leave it be, lest he be mauled by some manner of creature that prowled the streets after dark, a creature much like Ethan. If any creature should have the priviledge of ravaging him, it would be the wolfman from his dreams.

When he turned the door's handle, he knew in the instant before he opened it that it was Ethan waiting on the other side. The door flew open then and the rugged American was upon him, hungry mouth claiming his in a fierce, possessive kiss. The door was kicked shut behind them with the heel of Ethan's boot as Victor's bare skin was explored by the same hands from his dream, calloused palms running down his spine and resting on his buttocks, firmly kneading them between long fingers, exposing his virgin to the humid night air.

Victor found his hands wandering as well, fingers threading through thick course hair and pulling him in closer, crushing their mouths together, his tongue gracelessly fighting for dominance with the other between their locked lips, needing to claim just as Ethan did.

Ethan rutted his body against Victor's repeatedly, lifting one naked thigh up and holding it around his middle, grinding his hidden hardness against that of Victor's exposed one. An animal growl passed into Victor's mouth, then the kiss broke and in an instant, Ethan's mouth was on a stiff, pink nipple, forcefully sucking at the hard nub. The hand that had held his leg up was now running down his thigh to join the other where it held him open, slipping between the mounds instead, two fingers touching his small delicacy.

In an instant, Victor had pulled away from him, creating a safe distance between them, his heaving chest glinting with perspiration and a single drop of pre-ejaculate hanging lazily from the head of his impressive length. Victor quickly made to cover himself up with the thin sheet on his bed, but doing a poor job of it as he wrapped it tightly around his lower body, the front tenting and betraying him.

"Why can't you just... Fuck!" Ethan slammed his fist into the bookcase hard enough for the wood to crack beneath it and leave splinters in his knuckles. "Just let me fuck you already! It should be me, not that little shit stain Dorian! He can't have you, you are mine!"

Victor raised an eyebrow at his damaged bookcase, one of his very few possessions and then turned his eyes to Ethan, his scowling gaze hardly phasing the horny gunslinger.

"If you are quite done vandalizing my apartment, mister Chandler, I think it best you take your leave. I am not some manner of object for you to please yourself with, neither am I a possession you have any right to claim. I am a man, not some damsel who would spread her legs and welcome your brutish attempt at seduction." Victor's voice remained calm, yet there was a hint of undeniable poison that stung Ethan's ears.

"Why are you doing this, darlin'? Why won't you let me..." Ethan calmed himself, trying to appeal to Victor in a gentler manner as he attempted closing the distance between them.

"I am not your darlin'!" Victor hissed as he lost his composure and pushed Ethan back into the bookcase, his offended expression the complete opposite of Ethan's stunned glance.

Ethan gave him a chance to calm himself before stoking the fire once more. "Are you going to see that prick again?"

"That is none of your concern."

"Don't." Ethan's request was more of an order, even though he didn't mean it to sound as such. "You and I..." to his surprise, he heard Victor's amused laughter fill the air.

"You have no right say that to me. The gall!" His laughter turned into a snarl. "I will see whomever I like, whenever I like, and I shall be intimate with whomever I like. In this you have no say! There is no 'you and I'. We are nothing! You mean nothing!" His angry words grew softer then as he regained his composure. "I shall never be yours. Never."

Ethan closed the distance between them then, stopping within an inch of him, his face so close Victor could feel his frustrated breath on his mouth. Neither of them moved any closer. For the longest time, Ethan held him in his gaze, visibly rattled as his body shook in anger and desire equally, trying to find the right words. Then he was gone, slamming the door open and leaving it so as he left the apartment with the same haste that he had entered.

Victor breathed a sigh, but it was not in relief. It was a sigh of regret and self-loathing at what he had just said, the way he had pushed Ethan away when all he had wanted was to allow him what he craved, allow him to own, fuck, do whatever he had wanted with him, to him.

In a matter of 10 seconds, Victor had shrugged into the first pair of pants he could find, not taking the time to fasten it as he stormed from his apartment after Ethan, not bothering to close the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so it turns out that I'm going to be delving into smut town soon enough, would be my first time so I'm guessing Victor and I will lose our virginities together XD


	4. I'm such a coward, these wretched things I do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan seeks release and Victor might be too late to salvage things between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me long, sorry and yada yada. As requested there's a little bit of Ethan pov just to get his side of the story for once.

The interior of the brothel was illuminated in a sinful red glow, which seemed appropriate, Ethan thought as he entered. The decor was surprisingly classy in contrast to the unremarkable exterior of the building, large ceramic vases lined the walls of the reception area and a thick colorful curtain hung in place over the door behind the counter. A slender young gentleman wearing nothing but a black tie and brown trousers looked up from where a Penny dreadful had kept his attention occupied. He smiled as he rose from his chair.

"Welcome to Adam's garden, good sir. Do we owe this visit to business or pleasure?" The tone of his voice was high and undeniably feminine. He wasn't Ethan's type at all, not like the good Doctor Frankenstein, who had denied him his fevered pursuits one too many times. He needed to feel, needed to be felt, to taste and touch and above all, to fuck. He had to get Victor out of his system, for he despised the sway the cold-blooded man held over him. His nights were restless, his days far too long. He felt a deep sense of disorientation whenever he shared the same room with him, as if there were some invisible force pulling him forward, his restraint tested to its limits each time he caught Victor staring at him before the younger man would turn his gaze directly into the nearest wall.

"Pleasure." Ethan curtly answered the host.

"You are familiar with the gentlemen we have available, yes?"

"No, this is my first time here." He answered, his voice suddenly reflecting the spark of interest in the variety of male whores that he would get to pick and choose from. He had a very specific appearance in mind, for reasons obvious unto himself. 

"Any particular sort of gentleman that might suit your desire, good sir?"

"Let me see uh... Slender, definitely. I want to be able to... handle him as I see fit, you understand? I want to really give it to him without objection on his part." The host nodded and motioned for him to continue. "Light brown hair preferably. Shorter, younger than I am but not too young. Masculine yet refined. Preferably someone new, who hasn't been all used up down there."

The host looked up at the ceiling momentarily in silent pensiveness before he came to a conclusion that registered in the way he smiled at Ethan.

"Right this way, good sir. I have the perfect gentleman in mind for you." He motioned for Ethan to follow, and they proceeded down the hallway. The path before them was steeped in the same devilish hue as the reception area, and the doors on opposite sides were mostly closed, the muffled sounds of men engaging in all manner of hedonistic activities seeping through the cracks. As they walked, Ethan found three or four open doors along the way, the men inside apparently unconcerned or perhaps aroused over being seen by whomever cared to look. Their faces were mostly contorted in blissful sensation or wide eyed lust as frantic heads bobbed up and down in their crotches while others were copulating roughly with their escorts, some younger than their clients, others older. Ethan realized that some of the clients might even be the ones on their knees or their backs, but he wouldn't be one of those. 

Submission was not something he understood, nor was he interested in understanding, but for the ones who would submit unto him. Victor refused to, after weeks of what Ethan thought was painfully slow progress to render him pliant, and he just couldn't take it anymore. He needed to be in control, for someone to give him the reins and let him ride. He wanted to dominate and make someone scream on his cock. 

He had never really been interested in buying release, but he was fed up and confused, frankly. He felt a deep attraction to Victor, he ached to deflower him and reduce him to an overstimulated mess beneath him over and over again. Wanted to claim him, make him his own and butcher any man that would so much as look at him, but Victor wasn't having any of that. So here he was, rejected and ashamed of being the man who has to pay for it, all because the man he wanted didn't want him.

He followed the host to an open door where he was beckoned inside. On the single mattress in the cramped little room sat a naked young man of around 25 years old. He was everything that was asked for, yet Ethan still felt disappointed. The escort didn't resemble Victor at all. He was slender, sure, and he had light brown hair that curled over his forehead and behind his ears, but he lacked those full, pursed lips, the cocky stare and those dark eyes that so often drained Ethan of blood and relocated it to his groin. When he spoke, though, Ethan found at least one thing he could be satisfied with.

"Your pleasure is my priority, sir." A humble voice came that could easily have belonged to Victor. "Whatever your desire, it shall be made so. My flesh is a tool purposed only for you." The young man rose to his hands and knees and crawled slowly to the edge of the small, bare mattress.

"Just what I wanted to hear." Ethan said as he brushed his eyes over the naked frame of the smaller man who was so eager to please him. He turned to the host and gave a solemn nod, and the man left with a polite smile, leaving the door wide open. Ethan considered closing it for a moment but decided against it, instead turning his attention once more to the young man before him. "You don't mind an open door, do you darlin'?"

The escort's green eyes were wide with desire which seemed natural and not forced for Ethan's benefit and he smirked his response. "Not at all, sir. My skill and yours shall be laid bare for the world to see." 

"Please... Call me Mister Chandler."

"And what shall I be named, Mister Chandler?"

"Doctor Victor Frankenstein." Ethan was pleased at how receptive and intuitive the young man was, the latter quality which also belonged to Victor, and the former Ethan wished belonged to him.

"Have I done you wrong, Mister Chandler?" The young man asked innocently, eerily convincing in the role he played. Ethan found himself intrigued by the strange game and decided to play it out.

"You keep denying me what I want, doc." He said, the words coming as easy to him as if he were truly conversing with Victor.

"And what do you want, Mister Chandler?"

He paused for a moment, allowing himself to stop struggling against the reality of the situation and just go with it. He stepped closer to the stranger, and wrapped his fingers into the thick head of hair that reflected the pale yellow light of the room. His voice came out a harsh whisper.

"I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so bad, doc."

"Then why don't you, Mister Chandler?"

"Because you just won't let me." Ethan growled into his ear. "No matter how hard I try, you keep fighting me. Why won't you spread those pretty little legs for me and let me take you there?"

"I want that, Mister Chandler. Please." The escort purred.

"I know you want it. I can smell it on you. You're like a bitch in heat. You want me to fill you up, don't you?"

"Yes! Yes, Mister Chandler. I want you." The man knelt down and reached for Ethan's belt, his fingers fumbling with the buckle.

"That's right, you're aching for it. You're just in denial, a scared little boy. Scared that I might break you in half, that my cock will be too big to handle, that I might make you bleed? I am gonna break you, darlin', but you will love every second of it. You will beg for more when I'm done. You'd never want me to stop." His voice remained low and it grated under his own body's awakening to the attentions of the man before him.

The belt fell to the ground with a loud clank, and there was the sound of the zipper and then a wet suckling noise as Ethan was taken into a warm, talented mouth.

"That's right, suck it doc. Suck it and get it wet, unless you want it to hurt goin' in. You will be mine, even if I have to lock you up in a cage for the rest of your days and take you whenever I feel like it."

The escort continued his service of the thick shaft, a choked gag sounded from his filled mouth as Ethan held his head in place and drove his cock in to the hilt, the large glans probing the back of the young whore's contracting throat.

"You will love me." Ethan snarled, his voice filled with anger, determination and a hint of unintended vulnerablity.

He withdrew completely and thick strands of saliva covered his entire length and dripped from the younger's lips as he coughed and cleared his throat with a pleased smile and Ethan thought he could glimpse Victor right then, looking back at him, begging to be taken for the first time.

"How do you want me, Mister Chandler?" The escort managed between smaller coughs.

"Turn around." He grunted impatiently as he shrugged his trousers down to his feet.

\---

The host fell to the floor with a loud thud, completely unconscious. Victor hissed and gripped the hand he had just broken on the smiling idiot's face. He had asked for it, all Victor had requested was his cooperation and that he lead him to Ethan, but instead he had grinned and simply stated that his lips are sealed, over and over like a mantra until Victor finally just decided to eliminate the obstacle in his path.

He winced at the pain as his fingers dangled limply, unable to ball his hand into the fist that it had been mere seconds ago. He shut it out, the adrenaline flowing through his veins making it easy to ignore. He had followed Ethan from his apartment to this wretched place where he had least expected to find him. Yet there he was, running after a man who's advances he had rejected over and over again, determined to find him even though he had not the slightest idea what he would do or say once he did.

He moved past the curtain, down the narrow hallway lined with doors on either side. Grunts and groans and the sound of flesh connecting with flesh passed through the thin barriers that kept the visage of most of the numerous sexual acts from his virginal eyes. He did stop and stare in morbid shock at one particular duo who had their door wide open. 

The portly older man was sitting on the floor in front of the mattress, his mouth wide open and head turned upward as a much younger man, younger even than Victor, stood towering above him, frantically masturbating. Victor could tell he was close to climax by the way his toes curled, making his body sway slightly back and forth and the way the pace of his hand faltered before continuing it's fast rhythm. Victor didn't stay to witness what was to come, and instead continued on, spying another man working himself up and down, the shaft beneath him disappearing into his body in tandem with his movements. He forced himself to look into each open door, hoping to spy Ethan in one of the rooms. Finally, he did.

There he was, his overcoat and the long wavy hair the only thing Victor could identify but he had spent weeks studying him, and he knew what Ethan looked like, especially from the rear. His pale, firm buttocks thrusted furiously forward between the slender legs on either side of him, causing whoever he was having intercourse with to exclaim with pained pleasure.

Something happened then and Ethan's movements became even more energetic, as if something had awoken his senses the very moment Victor let out a small gasp of despair. Then Ethan turned his head, just enough to catch Victor in a one-eyed stare that spoke volumes. Anger and loathing lined his features, though Victor could not tell if it was directed at him, the person Ethan was so brutally fornicating with, or at himself. His cheek was wet and Victor realized with a shock that he had been crying. Then he turned his head back to where the escort was happily taking the welcome punishment that was being inflicted on him.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, his eyes unable to meet the sight before him but he found it impossible to move, to leave, to run and never look back again. Just run until he no longer could, until his body gave out. Then the broken words came as if from nowhere and tore his soul to shreds.

"You did this to me, Victor. You did this."

As soon as the words had been spoken, the weights had lifted from his feet and he was running.

\---

As the needle slipped into the vein he had struggled for minutes to find, Victor sighed and administered his fifth dose of morphine. He had grown tired, his eyes became heavier by the second and his breathing had slowed to a crawl.

His foggy mind was still awake enough to think. Think of how much he hated himself, how much he just wanted it to be over. He blamed only himself for his loneliness for he had pushed those away that attempted to forge some semblance of a friendship with him all through his life. He had been fighting against the bottomless pit of despair that defined his existence, tried to make some sense of it by playing god, attempted and failed to create creatures that would love him as his mother had loved him. Unconditionally, without question and without falter. He scoffed at himself, no more than a tiny breath leaving his lips, at how he could have allowed himself to think, if only for one second that Ethan might love him, that Ethan could lift him from the dark and set him free, in body and in spirit. That Ethan might redeem him and be something to live for, however small. He was wrong. He was always wrong so why was this any different? Why did it cause him so much anguish?

He would go out alone, a man amounting to nothing, having accomplished nothing but spawning creatures from the depths of hell that desired only the destruction of anything that stood in the way of their own pursuit of happiness. He would be mourned by none, not even Ethan. There had been nothing aside from a few heated encounters, heavy with lust and bodily responses that were entirely physical. There was no emotional weight between them, and now there never would be.

Ethan. Why does he care so much about Ethan... Why him? What might have been, had he only allowed the rugged american to just have what he desired, to take Victor in this very bed which he now would spend the last moments of his pointless life? These thoughts became incoherent as Victor's conscious mind began slipping into the welcoming stillness of near-death.

Within moments he had stopped breathing, and his vision blurred. He shut his eyes and felt the final beat in his chest as his heart gave out. As he slipped away into the beautiful, welcoming arms of nothingness, he imagined he heard a sound in the distance. The crash of a door being kicked open. 

Then, finally, there was silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark was it not? Well nothing good ever comes without adversity, am I right?


	5. Follow Me Through An Empty Chamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember way back when in season 1, when Ethan called Victor a bloodless dandy?

Death, it is an end to all things. It is inevitable. Even for such undying, accursed beings that dwell among the common folk. They all too will meet their end in due time. All things must perish sooner or later so that new life may come into existence, it is a circle that can not be broken nor eluded. Everything dies. But this day, Victor would not die, despite his best effort to end his existence and be dissolved into the infinite.

He awoke feeling better than he had ever felt, his blood and mind clear from the all-consuming need to be numbed by the benevolent poison he so constantly had to administer unto himself. Now, he felt nothing, no claws of withdrawal hooking into him, no need to be delirious and no ache for the release from his own mind and senses.

Instead he awoke to something else. A most repugnant yet strangely pleasant scent hung in the air, the smell of burning tobacco. As he opened his eyes and lifted his head sheepishly from the pillow, he realized that the smell was coming from Ethan, where he sat on the chair right next to bed smoking a cigar he had most probably rolled himself. He noticed Victor had awoken and stubbed out the hot coal on the palm of his hand, not flinching as he did so. Tossing the butt out the open window, he picked up the glass of water that stood ready on the desk and handed it to Victor, who gladly took it from him and drank it down as if he had never tasted anything better.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that right doc?"

"Pardon?" Victor wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he sat up and set the glass back down on the desk.

"A fucking idiot." He drew the words out as if he was speaking to a misbehaved child.

"I don't understand. What's happening? What have you done to me?" Victor suddenly became terrified, he had lived with his addiction for so long that he felt alienated from his own body and mind.

"What have I done? I cured you, doc."

"You cured me?"

Ethan nodded, his brow furrowed as he did so as if to emphasize that the answer should be obvious.

"Of what?" Disbelief came through in his words, the thought of Ethan Chandler curing anything couldn't be more absurd.

"That shit you kept shooting yourself up with for a start."

Victor scoffed at this. "You must think me a fool, that I am so easily gulled by..."

Ethan pointed to Victor's arm and the young doctor looked down and saw it. Where his flesh had been inked with horrid black veins from years of morphine abuse, there was nothing but clear, smooth, beautiful skin. Victor gasped at the sight, eyes shooting up to meet Ethan's satisfied smirk.

He wrapped his hand over his rejuvenated arm, inhaling and exhaling sharply as he fought back tears of relief.

"How is this possible?"

"Little something I discovered about myself before I came to London." His tone shifted then and he became serious and soft-spoken, almost remorseful. "I've been aware of it for a while now. It started out as an accident. I was out in the woods one early morning, back home. I was hunting. My father was... is... a cruel man. He would go out for hunts when our meat reserves were low, but he wouldn't kill just one deer for the meat. No. He would stay out all day, shooting everything in sight, taking pleasure in it. He wouldn't just shoot to kill, he'd maim them and then torture them, poke their eyes out with his pocket knife and hear them wail. I could hear those screeches of pain and distress all the way from my room. So I took it upon myself to do the hunting instead from then on, because I was merciful. I made it quick and I made it painless, unlike him."

Victor sat listening to Ethan's tale in silence, observing as he told his story as if to nobody in particular, could have been telling it to himself the way his eyes seemed to stare at nothing, lost in memory.

"Had my rifle locked and loaded, ready for anything. Then I saw it, movement between the trees in front of me, it was fast, real fast. I took aim, it fell down... But when I got to it I realized that it wasn't a deer." He fell silent, as if struggling to come to terms with the harsh truth that he was seeking out.

"It was a little boy. No older than 10. His eyes were wild and frightened. He tried crawling away from me. I saw the blood gushing from the bullet wound in his stomach and I knew he wasn't going to survive the hour. So I knelt down beside him as he struggled. I pressed my hand to the hole in his tiny little body and tried stopping the blood. I willed it to stop. And then it did."

Victor frowned as Ethan continued, the cynic in him finding the tall tale hard to believe but also unable to deny it as he himself had experienced it.

"And then he bit me. He just snarled, sprang up and sank his sharp little teeth into me. Then in a second he was gone, like he was never there in the first place. I wouldn't have thought anything of it had it not been for the wolf tracks I found when I followed his trail. His footprints went on for a short distance before they started changing shape, first there were the claw marks at the tips of the toes then they shrunk to paw prints gradually. And ever since that morning I've had the blackouts. And the carnage that follows have always been my doing, I know that now. I denied it. For a very long time I refused to believe that I had a healing touch or that the boy had turned into a wolf mid-run or that every time I woke up and there were dead bodies all around me, that it was all because of me. But I accepted it. I know the truth now, I know what I am and I know what I'm capable of."

Victor was stunned. What could he possibly say to Ethan whose face was now the picture of loathing and acceptance towards himself in equal measure? One question came to mind, which had been bothering him since he had opened his eyes.

"Why have you returned? Why are you here, mister Chandler?"

Ethan broke eye contact with him for the first time since he had begun relating the story about the boy in the woods. He swallowed umcomfortably and his eyes narrowed on the empty glass on the desk.

"I don't know."

For the longest time, neither of them said a word. Victor propped himself up with his hands and hissed in pain, gripping the hand he had broken the previous night when he punched the host at the brothel. Ethan caught this.

"Completely forgot about that. What happened?" He pulled the chair closer to the bed and reached out to take Victor's twisted hand.

"You saved me from death but you have difficulty healing a broken hand?"

"No, but between healing a broken hand and saving your life, what do you think would be the obvious choice?" With both hands, he enfolded the broken knuckles and closed his eyes. A warm, tingling sensation spread through the doctor's hand and into his fingers and the pain ceased in an instant. He felt his bones snap back into place without the burden of feeling the pain that it surely should have entailed. Looking down at Ethan's hands he thought he noticed that the thin hairs covering them stood up as if responding to static electricity. Then his eyes opened and his grip slackened as to let go of Victor's now remedied hand, but Victor seized his wrists in a vice grip.

With a shaky breath and trembling, he pulled Ethan closer, who was guided from the chair and onto the bed next to him. When his wrists were freed, he moved his hand up and brushed his thumb over Victor's full lips. When his thumb was taken between those lips and enveloped in the warm heat of Victor's mouth, he gasped and Victor noticed the bulge forming in his pants as he pressed his tongue to the rough pad on his thumb.

He pulled his lips back and reached forward with his restored hand and palmed at the hardness between Ethan's legs, earning a low hum from the american gunslinger. He looked into the eyes before him that was rapidly filled with lust and felt himself grow hard, aching to be closer to Ethan once more.

"I am ready." The words were not his own, as if they had come from somewhere deep within him, some place forbidden and unvisited by him, but they were true nonetheless. He wanted Ethan, wanted to feel his body pressed up against him, feel his tongue in his mouth and above all, wanted to be made a slave to his manhood. To give in and unite with him in body and spirit.

Ethan's breath hitched in excitement and his hands roamed all over Victor's body as he whispered, "You sure?"

It took all of three seconds for Victor to nod and then his lips were enveloped hungrily by those of the man that lusted for him more than any other. The kiss was clumsier than before, more urgent and soon it was interrupted as Ethan pulled back.

"Say it." He brought their bodies together and rubbed his clothed crotch up against Victor's leg. "Say you want me." His hand went for Victor's shirt and pulled it up and out from where it was tucked into his trousers, then slipped his hand inside, grasping at the hard and leaking member inside.

Victor gasped beneath his breath and complied to Ethan's demand.

"I want you."

Ethan smiled with satisfaction and desire for the younger man and pumped his fist up and down the hard shaft of his cock.

"Say you want my cock."

"I want your cock." Victor had never used such a word prior to this moment but he felt himself letting go of his prudish mannerisms and distinguished posture in favor of satisfying Ethan's every whim and demand.

"Yeah, you want it. You've always wanted it, haven't you?"

"Yes... Yes..."

Ethan's hand increased its pace on Victor's member, jerking him to inevitable completion.

"You're getting close, aren't you? I can smell it. Your scent is so fucking delicious."

And at that very moment, sparks flew out as Victor came undone beneath Ethan's calloused hand, spilling into his trousers, sounding his release out in the most beautiful staccato moans Ethan had ever heard. His body shook with the tremors of his release and Ethan relished in them, holding him close as his head twitched on his shoulder with every orgasmic spasm.

When he finally came down from his climax, Ethan planted a deep kiss on his lips and without further foreplay in mind, pushed him down onto his back on the bed and straddled him, making short work of his belt and then Victor's, eager hands slipping both pairs of trousers down and then ripping Victor's shirt open, buttons flying as he did so. Victor spied down and witnessed the only other penis he had seen other than his own, and it was impressive, much larger than he had expected. Victor tensed at the thought of such a large organ slipping inside his untouched virgin, his worried expression making Ethan smile seductively and whispering into his ear, "Don't worry, it won't hurt for long."

Ethan spat into his hand and lubricated his endowment then hooked Victor's legs around his back before pressing the glans against the wrinkled pucker. Eyes fixing on Victor's face and watching every minute micro-expression, he pressed forward, the head catching on the rim and eliciting a small hiss from the man beneath him. The pain shot up Victor's spine and his body tensed, the pressure on Ethan's cock tightening even more and eliciting a groan from him as he kept pushing forward.

"Relax doc, just relax. Let me in." He whispered and kept moving deeper.

"I am relaxed!" Victor's posture had been cast aside, his lust and the pain the only force that drove words from his lips. He willed the tension from his limbs, failed to do so and instead let go of the control he so desperately clung to, his legs slipping down Ethan's back but were caught between rough hands that brought them forward, placing them against his chest, heels catching on his shoulders.

Once Ethan was buried as deep as he could go, he withdrew somewhat before edging back in, and Victor felt the pain give way to a new sensation, something completely alien to him. An unfamiliar and indescribable pleasure rippled through his body in waves, every movement of Ethan's hips driving harsh gasps from him, the sound clashing with Ethan's soft grunts each time he slid back in after drawing himself out.

Once the tempo had been set and Ethan was driving not only gasps but loud moans from his new lover, he moved his hands from where they had been placed beside Victor and ran his hands over the doctor's chest, one going up to caress his neck and insert his fingers between those sinful lips that were parted wide as he exclaimed his stimuli, the other moving down through the trail of hair that ran from his navel to his pubic bush, gripping the rock-hard, twitching and soaking wet penis and giving it a gentle tug. Victor's small yelp was followed by his teeth clamping over the three fingers in his mouth, exciting Ethan even more as he picked up the pace and felt Victor remove his legs from their position against Ethan's chest and wrapped them around his back once more, drawing him deeper. From where his hands were gripping the sheets, Victor let go and grabbed hold of Ethan's shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Ethan let go of his cock then and removed his fingers from between his teeth, wrapping his arms around Victor to ensure that he would stay put as his thrusts became forceful, their chests colliding repeatedly and a sheen of sweat forming on their skins. The squeaks from the bed beneath them rose in volume to match the sounds of rapture between the two men that surely must have been heard all the way down in the street.

Victor didn't have to touch himself and came close to the edge merely by the friction of Ethan's stomach against his shaft. Ethan was close too, his eyes glazed over, his harsh breaths grew louder and his cock began pistoning the hole that now belonged to him so fast that Victor felt that couldn't breathe and it hurt and it felt so very good and he wanted it to stop and he wanted Ethan to never, ever stop.

"I'm gonna cum, doc. Gonna... cum. God!"

Ethan shoved all the way in, animal grunts poured forth from his mouth and the moment Victor felt the light burn of the first spurt of Ethan's ejaculate as it reached his colon, he cried out his second release in 10 minutes and his semen coated their stomachs. Tremors shook their bodies as he felt Ethan throbbing and twitching within him as his own rod bounced with every spasm.

A minute later, when Victor tried to get up from underneath him, Ethan gently but firmly held him down, having not removed his still-hard tool from where it was sheathed.

"You didn't really think 10 minutes would be enough for me, did you? That was just the warm up round, doc."

He gave a playful thrust and Victor groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head with renewed pleasure.

"I didn't believe you would find such joy in having carnal knowledge of a 'bloodless dandy'." He breathed, pulling Ethan down into a fiery kiss that broke as another sharp thrust elicited a laughing moan from him.

"It's not so bloodless now that it's blossomed around my cock." He reached down and shoved two fingers into Victor beside his penis, feeling the rim stretch and contract. 

With a smile and another rough kiss that possessed every fiber of Victor's being, Ethan whispered between their lips, connected by strings of spittle, "It blossomed so fucking beautifully."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope all ya smuthounds got what you were waiting for...


	6. This world is learning, this world is pure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new lovers decide to share their secret with the house.

Side by side, he lay next to his new lover, the doctor who had put up one hell of a fight for what seemed to him like an eternity. Yet there he was, beads of sweat fat against his skin, his breath heavy and loud as Ethan collapsed onto the sheets beside him with an exhausted sigh. The distinct scent of their coupling hung pungent in the air and the room was bathed in a newer, brighter shade of orange every passing minute as the sun rose lazily in the dawn sky. They had been at it for hours, Ethan realized.

“Jesus, doc. You’re insatiable. Not that I’m complaining, it’s been a while since I’ve been kept up all night. Never knew how much I missed it.”

“You realize of course that you carry all the blame in this regard?” the good doctor purred as he turned on his side, pressing hungry kisses into Ethan’s neck and down onto his chest, making him hum softly.

“And you have no idea how much I enjoy carrying that blame.” His left hand glided over Victor’s moist skin, playfully slapping the softness of his exposed buttocks. “Got to catch you up after all those unnecessary years of celibacy.”

“What a fool I've been. When I could have been doing this…” Victor was at his navel now, his tongue darting out and tracing the fine hairs down to his raw organ.

Ethan’s body jumped at the excessive stimulation and he groaned as he was taken into his lover’s mouth. He was amazed at how fast Victor had learned the art of pleasuring another. If he hadn’t been the one to take his virginity, he would have assumed Victor had had years of experience in bed. So talented was he that Ethan could barely muster the willpower to say the words they had both been trying to avoid since embarking on their sexual relationship.

“They already suspect… We need to… come clean with it. Sir Malcolm... may not approve...”

Victor looked up from where his lips released the hardening muscle. “I could not care less.” And as he moved to straddle Ethan, the American gunslinger found himself unable to care either.

\---

“You… WHAT?!” Sir Malcolm’s thundering voice boomed through the dining room of his manse. There hung an uncomfortable silence between the three men, and then there was laughter from the lord of the house. “Oh, this is… this is...” he trailed off laughing, covering his eyes with his hand, holding his stomach with the other. When he had somewhat regained his composure, he left the room abruptly, giggling to himself, leaving the lovers exchanging a confused glance. A moment later he returned with Vanessa, still laughing uncontrollably. She smiled as she acknowledged the source of Sir Malcolm’s delight, shook her head, reached inside her coat pocket and removed a penny, placing it inside the waiting palm of her paternal figure. “Congratulations, to you, Sir Malcolm…” she could barely be heard above his laughter and then turned to Ethan and Victor. “Moreover, to the both of you for having the courage to come forth with the truth. I did not expect you to admit to it, but that one of us would need to catch you in the act. Jokes aside, I wish you both all the happiness in this world and beyond.”

By the end of that evening, after an awkward dinner during which they were bombarded by several rather personal questions about the possible sexual activities between two men and the occasional blushing smile from Vanessa, Ethan and Victor headed out into the night together, deciding on a walk before heading home. To Victor’s surprise, Ethan wrapped his hand around his and held it tight as they strolled the streets, contemplating the road that lay before them.

“What do we do now?” Victor asked, enjoying the warmth of his lover’s hand against his. Ethan thought about it for some time, his breath visible in the cold autumn air.

“We don’t hide anymore. Let’s start with that.”

The moon rose high in the sky. In two nights it would be full.

“Are you ever going to tell them about… the other thing we are hiding?”

Ethan looked up at the ominous luminescent globe and sighed.

“Chances are they already know, just like they already knew about us.”

Victor followed his gaze and felt a chill run down his spine, though he could not discern whether it was concern or excitement. Whatever lay in store for them, it would not be boring. Far from it.

He pressed a kiss to Ethan's lips and led him by the hand back to his apartment, where he fully intended on repeating the previous night's events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything must come to an end, and so is this. Thanks to everyone who has been reading from the start and supported my story. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing.


End file.
